


Fireflies in the Garden

by r0ryy



Series: The Murdercoffee AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crying, Drabble, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Mafia AU, Poetry, Tattoos, Trans Female Character, but not really?, coffee shop AU, implied suicidal thoughts, kamui is an emotionally constipated idiot, ryoma is too good too pure, they're not doin it yet but they're getting close, trans!Kamui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0ryy/pseuds/r0ryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woods are lovely, dark and deep,<br/>but I have promises to keep;</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies in the Garden

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s some sad-ish not-porn bc apparently I can’t write about anything other than these two idiots falling in love and I just really like Robert Frost ok. Set in the same coffee-shop-owner!Ryoma and mafia/mercenary!Kamui au from We're Here Together, even though that isn't super relevant to the actual content of the fic. Lmao what is editing and coherency?

 

“I didn’t know you have a tattoo.”

“Wait, what?” Kamui sits halfway up, the weight of Ryoma’s body on top of hers preventing her from making it the rest of the way.

“This,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers gently where the ink curls over the slope of her ribs. “I didn’t know you had it.”

Kamui snorts. “I’m almost offended. I mean I _would_ be if you weren’t so close to touching my dick right now.”

Ryoma smiles at her retort and pauses his motions to lean up over her and get a better look at it.

“How many times have we fucked now? I mean, not that I’m keeping count, but it’s something like eighteen and a half so if you’re only noticing this now…”

“In my defense, you’re usually not patient enough to get all your clothes off.”

Kamui snickers. “Yeah, and by the time I do I’ve usually got you bent over or blindfolded or something along those lines so I _suppose_ it’s understandable.”

Ryoma chuckles and the noise feels warm against her skin. “Forgive me?” he murmurs, pressing his lips softly against the thin whirls of ink.

“Well if you keep doing that then yeah,” she sighs, relaxing back against his pillows. “I’ll let it slide.”

She can feel Ryoma still smiling through his kisses as he continues to run his hands and mouth over the length of her torso. Kamui threads her fingers lazily through his hair, ink black in the dim, blue light that filters in through the window. She enjoys the warmth that blooms slowly in the pit of her stomach, both from his tender ministrations and the feel of him smiling like that, smiling because of her.

“And miles to go before I sleep.” The words sound so nice I his voice, like they were made for it, and Kamui feels her own smile widening.

“That’s what it says,” she replies, scratching gently at the base of Ryoma’s skull and feeling him lean into the caress. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost, 1923.”

“I didn’t know you liked poetry.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, apparently,” she snorts. “That’s two in one day. And here I thought your mind reading skills were finally sharpening up.” Kamui clicks her tongue at him disapprovingly, but her stern façade cracks into a grin the moment she feels him start laughing again. His lips are so eager and warm and his fucking _giggling_ feels so sweet when he presses his mouth against the underside of her ribs, the side of her stomach, the slope of her hip. Ryoma’s hot, wet tongue darts out to lave softly at the bared flesh and his hands knead gentle circles into her sides and back, pulling her body closer when she shudders like he can’t get enough of it and _fuck_ he’s  going to be the death of her.

Kamui loses herself to the sensations and lets her eyes slip closed as she quietly recites:

_“Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,_

_And here on earth come emulating flies,_

_That though they never equal stars in size,_

_(And they were never really stars at heart)_

_Achieve at times a very star-like start.”_

She sighs once, a sad sound, and finishes:

_“Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.”_

Kamui lets the words hang there for a moment, lingering in the verse long enough to almost not notice that Ryoma had stopped his motions and he was staring up at her, wide eyed and…god was he blushing?

She props herself up on her elbows, eyebrows arched in incredulity. “Are you o-” But he steals the rest of her sentence away with his mouth, slow and tender, the kind of kiss that twists something in Kamui’s chest until it aches. She doesn’t like that feeling, nope not at all, so she shoves him away just enough to jokingly grumble, “Wow, I didn’t know you had a poetry kink. And here I could have exploited that a long time ago, but I guess I’ll just have to use it now.”

He is silent for a moment before something in his gaze shifts. “Kamui…”

“You know, it’s not even anything special. Everyone reads Frost in, what, like the third grade? And it’s a kid’s poem anyway…”

“Kamui.”

“It doesn’t even mean anything, I-”

And then he’s kissing her again, stealing her shaky voice away, the slide of his lips somehow more earnest than before and when his hands come up to softly cup her face, Kamui feels herself crack a bit. She digs her hands into Ryoma’s back and pulls him closer until he’s nearly lying on top of her, bare skin pressing together, warm and solid and _still here, still alive, still safe safe safe safe_.

Kamui repeats the poem without really saying it, rolls invisible syllables onto Ryoma’s tongue with her own until the last line doesn’t make her feel so sad anymore. It takes her a moment to register that he’s been swiping his thumbs gently across her cheeks to brush away the few stray tears she hadn’t been able to choke back.

“You know, I’m a little pissed that you’re ruining my emotionless asshole aesthetic,” she mumbles around his mouth, biting softly at his lower lip to prove her point and relishing in the little shudder it pulls from him.

“I know,” Ryoma replies, dipping his head to mouth at her neck, her ears, trailing gentle kisses across her eyelids before he moves down the other side. “But your secret’s safe with me.”

_I’m safe with you._

Kamui barely stops herself from saying the words out loud and instead hums a contented noise against Ryoma’s hair, happy to let him resume his earlier ministrations and more or less forget about her little Moment in favor of his hands caressing up and down her sides and his teeth worrying lightly at the base of her throat.

“So why this one?” he murmurs, running his fingers along Kamui’s ribs, over the ink, again. “Why this line?”

She considers briefly turning her response into another joke but no, she thinks, she wants him to know.

“It reminds me that I can’t let myself die just yet,” Kamui replies, with a little shrug. “I’ve still got shit to do. Like you. Which I would like to get back to, if you don’t mind.”

Ryoma laughs and Kamui’s chest feels at least five pounds lighter and five degrees warmer.

“Well, if you insist.”


End file.
